


A Study in Waltz

by BMRH



Series: The Private Stories of John Watson [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, John and Mary's Wedding, Male-Female Friendship, Mentioned Mrs Hudson, POV John Watson, Sherlock Being a Good Friend, Sherlock Dances, Sherlock Plays the Violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-02 21:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BMRH/pseuds/BMRH
Summary: “It must be told that as unbearable and rude as my friend could be when he was bored or frustrated, just as charming and likeable was he when he chose to be and that night he certainly did choose.” How did it happen that Sherlock composed and played the waltz at John and Mary's wedding? One of John Watson's private stories, set between "The Empty House" and "The Sign of Three". The third part (second chronologically) in my "The Private Stories of John Watson" series.





	1. The Genius Musician

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy writing these stories so much but I might be a little more inactive after this one because these three were basically done when I began to post them but I have some that is almost done at least that I wish to post as soon as I can. This one will be in two chapters and I will post the next one next week. Again, I have tried to sneak in som references to the original stories and also to the other fics in this series. Can you find any? Enjoy!

_**My name is John Watson and this is the story about my life as part of the life of Sherlock Holmes.** _

* * *

“Have you talked about the waltz?"

"Hmm?"

I realised right there that I hadn't paid attention to that it was actually me Mrs. Hudson was talking to at all. I must have lost myself in my thoughts a while ago but couldn’t even remember what I had been thinking about apart from sitting in my old armchair with my head resting on my palm and disguising how tired I was. Obviously, I was failing.

The hours at the hospital was by now taking its toll on me. Not that my work was in any way physically exhausting, or mentally for that part either, not at all really compared to Afghanistan. It was somewhere around here that every day started to move in the same pattern. Every single one of them... For once though, I enjoyed some financial security that a _safe_ work offered and it would just be stupid to say that I didn’t like that. Of course I also liked working with Mary and she really did fill my days with the light that was her humor and her positive attitude to life in general.

It was also Mary who saved me from the embarrassment of asking Mrs. Hudson what she had said by answering question herself.

"I would like to dance the waltz." she said while correcting her position on the armrest of my chair that she was sitting on. "Feels like something you ought to do at your own wedding but this guy hasn't been too positive about it."

Mrs Hudson frowned at me with a kind but obviously disappointed look and for once, I wished Mary wasn't so strait honest. This time, it really made me look like a jerk.

"You have to dance, John. It's a wedding tradition." Sherlock suddenly said in a monotone voice. 

"Where did _you_ come from?" I asked him, slightly irritated. Sherlock had been lying on the sofa with a book over his head ever since Mary and I had arrived at Baker Street this early afternoon. According to Mrs. Hudson, he hadn't had a case for days as the clients had been few and the police not entirely comfortable yet with letting Sherlock assist them, with the exception of Lestrade. It was obviously taking its toll on my friend’s mood. He had not said a single word since we arrived and he didn't answer when spoken to either, something that I was used to but that now was beginning to get on my nerves.

It wasn’t that my visits to 221B were rare and that I wanted to talk to him when I did.  Actually, it did, up until that point at least, happen quite often that I came by and immediately was involved in another one of his baffling cases. Mary had also accompanied me the last few times and it was going to be even more common as the wedding approached. Mary wanted Sherlock to be a part of the planning even though I had tried to convince her out of experience that it was way outside his very limited zone of interest. Up until now, he had done nothing to disprove me. I still wondered though if it would be different after next week when I planned on asking him to be my best man.

"Since when do you care about traditions?" I continued.

"Since you obviously don't think it's important to dance at your own wedding when your bride evidently wants so."

"I remember the waltz at _my_ wedding." Mrs. Hudson said, mostly to break the uncomfortable tension in the room. "Mr. Hudson was not a born dancer, I can assure you but the music was wonderful. We had live musicians."

She said the last words with pride evident in her voice.

"Live musicians are wonderful, Martha." Mary answered. "It’s not just the same to listen to a recording."

"Oh, but wouldn't it be lovely if Sherlock played the waltz then?"

"Sherlock?" my fiancée asked surprised. 

"Dear, don't you know that Sherlock plays the violin?"

"No, John has never _mentioned_ _that_."

The way her voice rose in strength that those last words made me realise that I apparently was going to have to make up to her for that later.

"Oh, you should hear him play." Mrs. Hudson continued excited. "It's such a delight! He composes too, such beautiful tunes. I particularly remember one lovely tune he wrote before New Year's Eve, three years ago I think. Do you remember that one, Sherlock? Can't you play it for Mary?"

"No." Sherlock said short and definite.

"Why not?" I asked with an intentionally calm voice. I knew which composition our old landlady was talking about and for once, I could almost understand my friend's reaction. He rose quickly from the sofa and closed the book with a loud thud. 

"Why is not of the slightest importance, John, and you should know that more than anyone else." he said quickly while he walked out into the kitchen. The clearly irritated tone in his voice concluded that the discussion was over.

Mary's eyebrows rose in confusion as she leaned over to me.

"Was that something that hit a nerve?" she whispered into my ear.

"Maybe, it's not you or anything, just... something else, I think. An old case involving a woman. I'll tell you another time."

"A woman? You bet you will!" she said with a curious smile.

Mrs. Hudson had also noticed that she had said too much.

"Maybe I shall go? Do you want anything?"

"No, we're alright, you don't have to..."

"You sure?" the landlady interrupted me. "I have some fruit cake in the fridge that I can..."

"Sit down, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock demanded as he walked out of the kitchen and, to my surprise, held his violin in his left hand.

"Why was your violin in the kitchen?" I asked confused. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"You truly must enjoy asking irrelevant questions, John, but if you must know, I did an experiment in the sitting room two days ago that could have resulted in an explosive reaction. I did of course put the violin in one of the cabinets for safe keeping, and for your record, the experiment was successful."

"No doubt about it." I answered as indifferent as I possibly could. I could hear Mrs. Hudson though exclaiming a worried "Oh, dear God…" when she realised that her property could have been in need of serious reparations if her tenant had calculated the slightest wrong.

Sherlock grabbed his bow from the mantel piece and positioned himself by the window. Without another word, he brought the violin up to his neck, placed the bow on the delicate strings and began to play. Within a moment, the flat was filled with the most beautiful music. It was a classic piece, something that even I did recognise but couldn't name. He had played it many times when we were flat mates, the last time the week before... he killed himself in front of my eyes... I tried to shake that mental picture out of my head yet again by focusing on my most alive friend by the window.

Sherlock played the piece by ear and like most times, with ease. I had rarely seen him use or need sheet music, only when he wrote down his own compositions. There were few who knew that he could not only deduce their life story with a single look, but also that he was a musical genius. There we sat, the three of us, and enjoyed our small but privileged concert to the fullest. Mrs. Hudson watched Sherlock with a proud smile on her face. Mary had closed her eyes to be able to focus on the music only. I myself leaned back into my armchair and felt more and more relaxed the more I listened. He played with such a feeling that for a moment, I felt transported away to another time and another place, a place where the feelings of stress and worry didn't exist. 

With a long and high pitched note that he spiced with even vibrations from his wrist, the music ended and silence followed in its place. It was Mrs. Hudson who first broke it with her exciting applause. Sherlock thanked her with a small bow.

"Sherlock, that was beautiful!" Mary said thereafter in genuine awe. "What was that?".

"Händel." he answered. "Violin Sonata in D Major. I prefer the works of the classic German composers, more than especially those from Italy or France. They’re quite extraordinary and therefore remind me of my own compositions."

 _As modest as he gets_... I thought and rolled my eyes.

"Well, I haven't heard any of your own compositions so I don't know if I can agree with you." Mary said cunningly and I knew exactly what she tried to do. That's why I had a hard time constraining my laughter when Sherlock put the violin to his neck again. As brilliant as he was, in the end, he was most of all a show-off. 

Another piece of music filled the apartment and this one was unfamiliar to me. I did notice though that the piece was played in triple time and very suitable for waltz. His performance on the instrument was once again stunning.

Mary rose suddenly from her spot and took my hands in hers. She tried to get me on my feet but I just shook my head. Dancing was definitely not my forte and I would do everyone’s eyes a favor if I could spare them that sight. She became visibly disappointed and sat down again. It was by then that Sherlock abruptly stopped playing and put his violin down in his own armchair.

"Oh, don't stop, dear!" Mrs. Hudson cried out and was followed by Mary.

"You were right; it's just as good as the German composers! Or better!"

But Sherlock said nothing and just walked out of the living room and into his own bedroom. For a moment I thought that his bad mood had returned. It wouldn't have surprised me because his violent mood swings were a major part of everyday life when we lived together. This time however, it was a false alarm because just a minute later, he returned with a CD in his hand. He placed it inside his computer that was standing on the desk in the room and to everyone's surprise, soon the sound of waltz music was heard from its speakers. Sherlock turned around and walked over to me and Mary but then stopped in front of her without even giving me a single look. A charming smile spread across his face. 

"Ms Morstan, may I have this dance?"


	2. The Man without a Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't posted within the same time that I usually do but my studies have come in between. Anyway, enjoy the final chapter in this little story.

Sherlock kept holding out his right hand to Mary, who had by now broken down into surprised laughter, while I just stared at him in absolute confusion. She eyed him suspiciously but playfully for a moment, maybe to see if he was actually serious or not, before she seemed to make up her mind. She rose from the arm rest, smirked and then gave him her hand.

"Certainly, Mr. Holmes."

It must be told that as unbearable and rude as my friend could be when he was bored or frustrated, just as charming and likeable was he when he chose to be and that night he certainly did choose. Sherlock pulled my fiancée into his arms with a powerful and gracious movement that surprised both her, Mrs. Hudson and certainly me. Mary let out a small squeal but then just laughed loudly as my friend placed his right hand tightly, but at a tasteful level, around her waist and took her right hand in his left. Then they began to dance and it truly was a most extraordinary sight. Sherlock lead Mary in the waltz across the floor with the most gracious and confident movements, perfectly in timing to the music. He twisted her out from his arms and inside again, all while looking into her eyes and smiling brilliantly, a smile that I took as being very genuine. Mary continued to laugh, especially when Sherlock dropped her to the side and surprised her completely, all to Mrs. Hudson's absolute delight.

I watched them swirl around the living room in absolute astonishment. Sherlock was a man of many talents, no doubt but that he could dance was something I had never imagined. Well, it wasn't that he couldn't learn. With that sense for music that he had, it wouldn't be too hard for him. It was more that I had expected dancing to be one of those trivial things in the world that he found absolutely unnecessary to pay any interest to. But whatever his reasons were, he definitely could dance and like every other skill that he had paid attention to, he mastered it to perfection.

I could also not remember seeing him be any more charming. With his high cheekbones, tall frame and enigmatic eyes, it was no doubt that he was a good looking man. The way he laughed and twinkled with his eyes that afternoon, certainly didn't make it difficult to see why Molly clearly had fancied him since long before I knew him. I even smiled a little at the sight because it was nice seeing him in that way, so unbothered and for once, more human than machine. 

Still, there was something else that really bothered me as I watched my fiancée dance in the arms of my best friend. She laughed so loudly and was so happy but I just felt more and more uncomfortable. Even with these symptoms, I couldn't understand, or wanted to understand, that I was getting jealous. 

I had always envied Sherlock for a lot of things. I envied his skills in deduction as much as I admired them. No one could say I wasn't a perfectly reasonable and intelligent man but around Sherlock on a crime scene, I felt like most people did; like an idiot. But I don't think I have ever envied him more than that afternoon when he danced with Mary. In our crime solving team, he was the mind but I was the heart. When he was insulting the police force for their inability to understand that the knife was not the murder weapon at all, I consoled the mother of the victim, and here the man without a heart was dancing with the woman I loved and making her happy in a way that I couldn't...

Sherlock dropped Mary one last time to the side as the song ended and Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands loudly, even more excited than before.

"You're next!" Mary said to her.

Sherlock chuckled darkly and sent the landlady an almost apologetic look. 

"Another time, Mrs. Hudson, I promise. Thank you for the dance." he said and kissed Mary's hand. 

"Well, Sherlock Holmes, you are a man of many talents. And even a gentleman. Who knew?"

"Who said I wasn't?"

"Okay, _that's_ enough." I said and rose from my chair. All three of them looked at me in confusion and suddenly the whole situation felt very embarrassing. I was sure though that I could see Sherlock smirk in the background. 

"... I mean, we have some shopping to do. Right, Mary?"

"Oh, yes, I had almost forgotten. We definitely shouldn't eat take out again."

Mary warmly hugged Mrs. Hudson goodbye before she reached up to Sherlock and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you." I could hear her whisper and he answered with a smile and a single wink of his eye. Involuntarily, I felt myself tense even more and of course, this made me realise what I needed to do. Something I would definitely _not_ do it in front of Mary.

Mrs. Hudson offered us to take the fruit cake that she had baked during the morning with us and Mary followed her down into her kitchen. I knew this was my chance so I walked over to Sherlock, who by then had just picked up his violin again from the armchair.

"That..." I began "was quite something, mate. I didn't know you could dance!"

"You didn't know, or you presumed?" he answered while he tuned the instrument with his delicate fingers.

"I just thought it wasn’t something that interested you, because well... you know."

"I know what?"

"Never mind." I sighed. "Anyway, I thought... maybe you could... teach me some of that? For the wedding."

Sherlock instantly stopped what he was doing and turned around to face me. 

"I'll meet you here at six o'clock on Tuesday night. Be on time."

He smirked triumphantly.

"You knew this would happen!?" I exclaimed. "You knew I would get jealous of you dancing with Mary!"

"Of course I did. You're a man of high moral but you have a primitive need to prove your masculinity for some reason. If another man could give your fiancée something that you couldn't, it would certainly make you more motivated I figured, and I was right."

"Of course you were." I answered and just shook my head.

"Mary is very special." Sherlock said suddenly and in a more serious tone. "One of the finest women I have ever met. It was most clever of her to figure out that it was a skip code that was sent to her."

"I'm happy she is and I'm really happy that you think so. After all, brainy _is_ the new sexy, right?"

My friend chuckled with me but I could see that my words had created a slight sadness in his eyes. It made me wonder if he often thought about _her_ , in whatever way possible to his calculating mind. I placed my hand on his shoulder.

"I'm very glad you're back, mate."

"I am too."

A very genuine smile spread across his face, as it did on mine. I then patterned his shoulder and turned to leave while Sherlock turned back to face the window.

"Tuesday then?" I said when I was by the door.

"Six o'clock."

"Got it. I might stop by on Monday too, just so you know."

"Mhmm."

"And Mary and I would be more than happy if you wanted to play during the wedding waltz for us."

I got no answer to this and for a moment I was afraid that he might have thought the idea too ridiculous to even answer to but as I walked down the stairs, I could hear Sherlock starting to play another tune, a tune that was once again unfamiliar to me. He only played for a few seconds before he stopped again, was silent for a few moments and then played the same melody one more time. Even in these small sections of music, I was sure that I could distinguish the triple time. He was composing – and he was composing a waltz. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, against all popular belief, Sherlock Holmes does actually have some social skills. That was something that I loved about the first two seasons but that I think that they lost slightly in the third. That section about that Sherlock “chooses” when to be social and likeable is actually based on one of the quotes in the books, from “The Sign of Four”. Thank you yet again for reading this story! Comment, Subscribe to the series and Kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Oooo what's going to happen now??? As you may have noticed by now, I'm a sucker for Sherlock playing the violin and just love describing these scenes in text. Let me know what you think about this chapter and tell me what your favourite Sherlock image is? Thank you!


End file.
